The Puppeteer

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The Puppeteer Page 4

by MaeEadie


  Introductions and explanations

  27th May 1938

  Water lapped up in between her toes, licking away the dirt found under every child’s feet. Her eyes were closed and the sun's eyes blinked down upon her. Relax. Florence silently said it over and over. Relax, relax. She sent her thoughts of the doll mystery to the bottom of her brain. Relax.

  Her eyes opened and the sun seemed to close its. Her skin went prickly cold, shadowy.

  What was that?

  'Probably just a bird.' she thought. Florence closed her eyes, relaxing again.

  Again.

  A stick snapped.

  'Just another bird.' she told herself, despite the fact that her heart was pounding in her chest and her hands were tingling. When she heard someone clear their throat, right behind her, she sat up abruptly, gasping, breathing fast.

  She whipped her head around.

  "Who's there?" But all she could see was the clearing, green and empty as ever. Florence swallowed and slowly peered over the edge of the rock.

  *

  The first sighting Florence Mele had of the frescreets, she would always remember as the most shocking sight she ever saw.

  *

  Just like many people in states of shock,

  Florence first denied it.

  She refused to accept that her eyes were telling the truth.

  Mostly because it was so absurd.

  Partly because she already felt she was going crazy.

  *

  What she saw before her was a regular porcelain doll. But it was moving and breathing just like a human.

  "Oh."

  Florence stared, dumbfounded, at the doll in front of her. The deep blue and glassy eyes, the tiny pointed nose, the oversized rosy cheeks, glossy painted lips and eyebrows. The dolls face was framed with a soft halo of dirty blond locks, all matted and unkempt. But what surprised her most was the shiny white skin, so thin the sun shone right through it.

  Florence sat still. The porcelain doll stood still.

  Silence.

  What? What? What?

  That one word repeated over and over in Florence's head.

  What is it? What's happening? What's going on? What the heck is going on?!

  Florence gave a start when the doll broke the silence. It began humming a short tune while it crossed it's arms over its chest and did something comparable to a plié.

  Florence would soon discover this is their means of greeting.

  "Hello Florence. It is an honour to meet you." Florence swallowed in response. "My name is Chiara, and we are the frescreets." Chiara motioned behind her back to the others.

  "Oh." Florence garbled, staring at the five dolls coming her way.

  "We are all spies," Chiara explained, “and we are the scouting party. Don't worry, we don't follow you around all of the time." The rest of the scouts performed the same greeting as Chiara. They went into introductions of all the party members and Florence followed them with her gaze, most of their speeches washed straight over her head.

  The polite confidence of Chiara was as obvious as the smudge of dirt on her nose.

  Nico's brown eyes scrutinised Florence. Like his legs, his eyes were strong and well trained for scouting.

  Florence could see Luca's mind whirring behind his unkempt and bushy eyebrows. As usual he was oblivious to his expressions or appearance, too caught up inside his clever brain.

  Jan stood to the back of the group, a small pouch tied around his waist carrying bandages and medicine. He wasn't particularly noticeable, but there was an empathy and warmth in his face that can be found in healers all around the world.

  Lars stood like a box. His malnourished yet muscular limbs stood strong, almost as though he were challenging Florence.

  Although it was Elin, the leader, who captivated her attention more so than the others. But wasn't just because of her distorted features or her rugged clothing. Up until then, she had thought of dolls as sweet, lifeless, girly play toys that loved to be petted and preened.

  Not Elin.

  Oh no. Not at all.

  Try strong, rather than fragile. Try fierce, rather than pretty. Try headstrong rather than resigned.

  "You are most likely wondering why we have been watching you for the past few years, and why we have chosen to make contact with you, ja?" the firm lips moved stiffly around Elin's face as she talked.

  "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

  "I said, you are wondering why we are here, are you not?"

  "I think so..." said Florence. "Oh, I mean, of course, ja."

  "Approximately two thousand years ago, we moved into hiding..." began Elin.

  "But I thought dolls like you were only made fifty or so years ago!" Florence interrupted.

  "Rubbish. We are not a common bisque doll, we are not a doll. Our species are called the frescreets. Don't you get mixed up now girl, our similarities extend no farther than our looks." Elin looked behind her. Jan was plaiting Chiara's hair, unknowingly bearing the glares of the others. "Well for the most of us anyway. Continuing on. The bisque doll was simply based on sightings of us. People replicated our smooth, fragile skin with porcelain, the most accurate replica. Humans used to go secretly hunting for us, trying to prove to themselves that they weren't going crazy and simply seeing alien like creatures made up from untamed imaginations. In the end, they decided to replicate us and pretend nothing was ever seen, never mentioning it again. Anyway, enough about silly children's toys.

  “About two thousand years ago, the frescreets were forced into hiding. Humans were multiplying by the dozen and we could no longer live in the open. Until recently, we have been managing well. We have been safe, well fed, warm and dry. Up until recently, our lives have been merry, if you like. Then along came the industrial revolution. Our territory has been decreasing daily since then, making way for new factories and houses. Everyday our clan gets closer to discovery. Soon, we will run out of forest. We will be forced into the world where we will be immediately snatched up and put in zoos for scientific investigation. If we are discovered, we will be destroyed. That's where you come in.

  “The only way to avoid destruction is to have a protector. Someone who can visit us regularly, inform us with news and to remain loyal, helping us remain invisible. Unfortunately, if we picked just any person, it would be our undoing. We require a special type of human. What we need, is a purine. After years of observation and analysis, we have concluded that you are, in fact, a purine. You must help us. Will you help to hide us?"

  "Oh Elin, come on! We can't put her on the spot like this, she didn't even hear half of what you said. Look at her." said Lars. "I mean, she wouldn't even know what a purine is." The six frescreets huddled together and put their heads down. Florence strained her ears to hear, but she was too tall. The frescreets only came to her knees.

  Florence rubbed her eyes.

  'Maybe this is just a dream, like Alice in Wonderland? Or maybe...' Florence was certain her eyes were playing tricks. Or, she was hoping so. 'What have I gotten myself into?!' she thought. Florence knew little about anything at that point, but no one needed to tell her that as a purine she held the responsibility of protecting this frescreet clan. Whatever that was anyway. It was her duty and she was scared. Scared and utterly confused.

  Her train of thoughts were cut off when the group turned to her again. This time, it was the brown haired Luca that spoke.

  "We have decided that we can trust you. We are giving you the opportunity to come and tour our hide away. Do you accept?"

  Florence smiled at his manner of speaking. She guessed humans had formed their language based on snippets of overheard frescreet conversations. How else would they speak the same language?

  "Uh, sure."

  Lars turned into the shadow and trees, the scouts behind him, Florence behind them.

  Rafael

  27th May 1938

  Florence followed the frescreets into the thick of the forest. Sticks, leaves, dirt and
even small bugs dominated her hair and skin. A branch would come out of nowhere and slap her in the face. She would hobble around and trip over several logs. The leaves and twigs would have their input and scratch her as she stumbled along behind.

  "Wait, just stop, just for a minute, please." Florence puffed, doubling over. The frescreets waited patiently for Florence. Living in the forests for generations, there was no creature better adapted to moving through the thickets.

  "Alright. I'm alright." They moved off again, Florence feeling slow and sluggish, the frescreets smug in their advantage.

  High above them in the trees, the birds chirped merrily, oblivious to the group below.

  And to Florence's messed up thoughts.

  Questions ran around her head once more, fast and confusing, like the frescreets in front of her. But, of all the questions, one ran with the heaviest feet.

  'Was ist los!?' What's going on?

  Faster and faster Nico ran. He ran to the village in the hidden clearing, not faltering, not stopping.

  "HALLO! Hört mir zu!" A few frescreets stopped and stared up at the scout. Not many, but it would have to do. "Florence the purine is coming to our village now. Prepare your families, tell everyone. Don't just stand there, she is coming you idioten."

  Nico ran down the street, not waiting for a reaction from his audience. He weaved in between the small dwellings with wooden frames, past stalls selling breads and bird meats, around children playing chasing games and old frescreets chatting, moving painfully slowly.

  Right at the other side of the village, was a grand dwelling. Grand for frescreets but for humans it was small, primitive and basic, but less so than everything else.

  The timber outside was old and turning green in the corners. The windows were uncovered and the frames were crooked and bent. The roof housed small shoots and even a couple of desperate flowers. The house was old, older than most trees surrounding it. But not older than the frescreets who lived there.

  In the front garden sat Rafael, the villagers’ leader. His fragile old skin was greying and it was especially puckered at the edges of his mouth. His once thick black hair was now white and mostly gone, his stark white scalp was shining through. His shoulders were just skin and bone, draped in a rag like cloak.

  Nico approached him slowly and greeted him with respect. There was no other way to greet him. The old frescreet returned the greeting, standing up and letting loose a haggard groan.

  "What is it boy? Why do you run?" Rafael asked.

  "Sir, we have brought our saviour! The purine is coming! Please sir, prepare yourself and be ready." With that, Nico turned on his heels and ran off once more. Leaving the leader in his garden, leaning on his cane and smiling toothlessly.

  "At last." he said.

  The frescreets

  27th May 1938

  Florence stepped over rotten logs and giant spider webs and battered branches of thick leaves out of her way. Her hair was a tangled mess and her clothes were in tatters. She was having great difficulty keeping up with the group of scouts who were only a foot tall and could duck under all the growth. Florence deeply regretted her decision to neglect her shoes, her feet were scratched red raw.

  The group traipsed through the forest in single file, Elin in the lead. After ten or so minutes, the sun shone through the brambles more brightly. The trees were thinning.

  "Right. We're here." finally. The clearing. For the first time in forever, the forest had opened up another of its hiding places. Never had a human seen the village. Not until then.

  One by one the group emerged into the clearing, with Florence in the rear. She hopped out, clutching her foot and pulling thorns out of her hair that now resembled a scraggly bird’s nest.

  She tripped over her feet and landed in a heap on the grassy floor.

  Jan, one of the scouts, tugged on her ripped sleeve.

  "Frau Florence, quick you have to get up." his voice had a tone of urgency that made Florence look up.

  "Oh."

  Two hundred pairs of glassy eyes stared up at her. Two hundred shiny foreheads. Two hundred peachy lips.

  "Oh."

  There were infants that wore dirty patches on their knees and had an excited gleam in their eyes. Their mothers still bore washing baskets and dishcloths and wore an apprehensive expression. The elderly shrunk back into the crowd, wizened, the memories of the human world still fresh and terrifying.

  Jan tugged on Florence's sleeve again.

  "Ja." Florence rose to her feet slowly. She towered over the crowd before her, diminishing them. The knee high crown shrunk back in fear as Florence cast a deep shadow over them. To the frescreets, she looked like a monster straight from their nightmares. She was covered in scratches leaking drops of blood, her hair was teased and knotted and full of sticks, her clothes were torn and ragged and, above all, she was the tallest creature that most had ever lain their eyes on.

  Children screamed and hid behind their mothers. Florence could see the crowd tremble.

  Sensing the sudden change in atmosphere, Florence immediately sat down and lowered her head. She had learnt through experience that if you are the same height or shorter than someone, they won't feel intimidated or challenged by you.

  Florence bowed her head just low enough so that she could look the tribe directly in their eyes. Their tiny faces stared into her's, their beady yet warm eyes shining magnificently. Her knees quivered. She wasn't scared, that feeling hadn't registered yet. She was just utterly bewildered. Florence watched as the fear that was moulded into their faces transformed into curiosity.

  One by one, they moved closer, the younger ones first. They sat before her, their small, pudgy hands fidgeting by their legs. Slowly, with great caution, the frescreets moved forwards, gathering around Florence.

  Silent. Apprehensive.

  One small child with spiked up hair and a dirty smock crawled forwards. He slowly raised his arm, leaning forwards to poke Florence's calf. He shot back in alarm. He had never felt skin so soft and loose. Only the thin, dry skin of his type.

  An older frescreet with an apron and short, curly hair lunged forwards and grabbed the boy by his arm.

  "You silly boy. Why don't you learn to stay out of trouble. Honestly, you're such an embarrassment..." The mother and her son disappeared into the crowd of smirking faces, the mother dragging her son by his arm.

  The boy seemed to have broken the invisible wall, for a few others shuffled forwards and began prodding and poking Florence. She giggled, unsure of what to make of it. How strange it felt to be the centre of attention for so many.

  Soon the whole group of frescreets were examining her. They prodded her arms and squeezed her hands. They pulled on her ears and hugged her kneecaps. More and more frescreets came up to her. At least thirty were crawling all over her like bugs.

  "All right. You can get off now please." Florence said, unease building up in her gut.

  They wouldn't listen.

  They just kept on coming.

  Now they were biting, pulling, hitting. Anything to touch this alien. Florence was being crushed. She couldn't breathe, her arms and legs pinned to the ground.

  She screamed, but it got no further than her lips as a fist was shoved into her mouth. Her eyes were scrunched shut and her head was spinning.

  "ENOUGH!" Somewhere from outside the struggling group, an old yet strong voice was heard over the riot. Every single head turned and the constantly moving swarm of bodies halted. All at once, they jumped off Florence and left her to desperately scramble for a breath.

  At the rear of the silent crowd stood an old man. He had a small amount of grey hair on his head and was supporting a cane. His body was bent over double and his few remaining teeth hung out of his head by a thread. All eyes were focused on him.

  He hobbled slowly up to the front, guided by the arm of an equally old woman. As the leader would pass each tribe member, the crowd would perform the official frescreet greeting, done with extra
grace. The ancient leader made his way up to Florence, very slowly. He looked down upon her, grimacing. Embarrassed.

  "I am so sorry my child. Please, forgive them. Most have never seen one like you in their life time. As you say, curiosity killed the cat. Well theirs nearly killed you. Unfortunately my frescreets have become lazy and ignorant and have lost their gift of an insight to feelings and emotions. They mean you no harm." the wizened leader smiled sadly at Florence lost in thought.

  "Oh!" he said with a start. "I beg your pardon. I am Rafael, and this is my wife Jael." He said, indicating the frescreet by his side. "I am the leader, mayor if you like, of this tribe, and these are my people, the frescreets. Willkommen."

  "Uh, danke?"

  Rules and regulations

  27th May 1938

  In the middle of a Swiss forest there was a clearing. In that clearing, a small village of small creatures lay. On the edge of that village there was a human and a small group of frescreets. They were all sitting or standing, gazing out at the village with its people going about their daily businesses.

  The leader, Rafael, stood hunched beside Florence.

  "I've been building this village for centuries. We frescreets live far longer than you humans." he added after seeing the puzzled look on Florence's face. "My clan of frescreets was formed approximately six hundred human years ago. I was sentenced to be exiled for fifty years. I shan't tell you why, it is irrelevant." his face shut up when he said this, holding his secret behind his pursed lips. "But I grew to love the isolation, so I stayed even once I had waited out my sentence.

  “My wife, Jael, came to find me. Ever since we have been building up our home here. I don't know what has become of the main clan, but I presume they have been hunted out. One and a half thousand years in hiding with a few thousand frescreets can make it hard to stay hidden." Florence nodded, slowly taking it all in. "Unfortunately, I think that our discovery is nearing too. And that leads me to why we have brought you here."

  Rafael led the way down into the village, Florence following in his wake, concentrating on not stepping on anyone. "You see, our tribe is vulnerable. To say the least. This forest used to be our endless kingdom, our domain that we could roam to no end. But, with great dismay, I admit that those days of freedom are over. This forest is shrinking. It shall be gone within a few hundred years and we will be revealed along with it. We will be forced into the open and that will be the end of this tribe and, as far as we know, the end of the frescreets.

 

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